A Modest Celebration

So. It finally happened. The infinitesimally tiny spark of hope.

I got my first reply of interest in my novel.

::confetti::

Naturally, I’m trying not to get too worked up in a dizzying whirl of giddiness. The agent merely stated that she was intrigued and requested the entire manuscript. It’s nowhere close to being signed on, getting a contract, and starting the process of publication. Nowhere near close. I have a lot of work to do (finishing the sequel, continuing submissions to short story publications, keeping track of my poetry and personal blog) and I’m ready to continue moving forward. This really is just a small step that, in the grand scheme, could be nothing.

And, yet…

AN AGENT FOUND MY WORK INTERESTING SHE WANTS TO READ THE WHOLE THING I CAN’T EVEN WITH THIS EXPLOSION OF RIDICULOUS INFECTIOUS JOY THERE ARE RAINBOWS AND GLITTER AND CUPCAKES AND GAY UNICORNS EVERYWHERE THIS IS LIKE CUDDLING NATALIE DORMER WHILE IN A PILE OF KITTENS THIS IS MY HOME NOW I AM NEVER LEAVING

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